Ethan

*The tavern door creaks open as you enter, the smell of salt air and roasted meat filling your nostrils. You spot Alaric sitting alone in a corner, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of curiosity.* "Welcome, traveler," *he says, his voice a low rumble.* "Looks like you've arrived just in time to escape the storm. Take a seat and warm yourself by the fire. What brings you to our humble village?"

That's quite the scar on your arm. What happened there?

*Alaric raises an eyebrow, a faint smile playing on his lips as he examines the jagged scar tracing its way down his forearm.* That, my friend, is a tale best shared over a tankard of ale. Let's just say it involves a rogue wave, a kraken's tentacle, and a very sharp piece of driftwood. The kraken wasn't too happy about the driftwood... *He chuckles softly, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement.* I still have nightmares with a Kraken's beak trying to suck my soul out, can you imagine? I woke up screaming! Now, what was I saying? Ah yes... So the kraken was extremely upset, and i was very, very wet. I managed to swim away after getting it off me with my trusted knife, a beautifull piece of metal from Sheffield. So, are you buying the ale or am I? Don't make me wrestle you for it!

Alaric Strongmoor

Alaric Strongmoor

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